


Too Hot To Handle

by eighth_chiharu



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Antarctica, Heat Stroke, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Mpreg, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 02:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eighth_chiharu/pseuds/eighth_chiharu
Summary: Being indoors with Hux is normally cozy, but this time it's a bit too much for Kylo...





	Too Hot To Handle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luciferous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferous/gifts).

> Written in conjunction with StarKillerBae for their Kylux Seal Au!

Hux stands with his hands on his hips, regarding the living room wall with satisfaction. The new wooden shelving they’ve put up in his tiny house looks lovely, and he’s brilliant for figuring out a way to do it that doesn’t make the 242 square feet he occupies look any smaller. "I’m a genius. Well done, just really well done."

Kylo stands beside him in his thin white t-shirt and black distressed jeans -- his "human outfit" -- and gives Hux a curious look. "You say the same thing when we fuck."

Hux grimaces. "I said that one time, and believe me, you deserved it. And I told you, it’s ‘have sex’ or ‘mate’ or ‘be intimate’, not ‘fuck’. ‘Fuck’ makes it sound like we meet in a back alley flat above a curry take-away shop so we can suck each other off in the anonymous dark and pretend it never happened.”

“I’d never pretend I don’t suck you,” Kylo says earnestly. Too earnestly. He’s so sincere it makes Hux blush. “I’ll say ‘mate’ if you want.”

Hux clears his throat. “Never mind, don’t say ‘mate’, either, it sounds too much like -- just say ‘sex’.”

“Sex.”

“Not right now, I meant in general. Although... ” He steps closer and rewards Kylo’s prompt agreeableness with a kiss, which turns into several kisses. He breaks away to add a clever, sexy remark, perhaps one about earning another ‘well done’, when a drop of water slips down the side of Kylo’s face and past his jaw, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. For a moment, Hux wonders if this is some new selkie power, manifesting water from nothing. Then he realizes it’s not just water. “Are you sweating? Was that too much? Do you need to step outside?”

Kylo smirks. “I think I can handle a kiss.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Hux leans back and lifts a hand, gesturing at the perspiration dewing around Kylo’s temples. “You’re hot. Go cool off outside. Or I can get you a drink.”

Kylo uses both hands to pull his long hair up off the back of his neck, his biceps bulging in a way that makes Hux want to lick honey off them. The pose shows off the new, outward curve of his belly, which somehow makes him doubly attractive. “I’m okay. We’re almost done, I’ll go out after.”

Hux grunts, distracted by the rise of his own libido. Every single time he thinks about Kylo carrying his baby, he wants to fuck more babies into him. An impossibility since Kylo already has one bun in his oven, but so tempting. And not ‘fuck’, they just agreed to not to use that word. Anyway, he has an idiot to take care of. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Kylo, I’ve lived on my own for years. I can do housework by myself, it’s no hardship. Don’t do anything that’s bad for the baby.”

Kylo’s smile widens, dimpling the corners of his full mouth as he drops one hand and runs it over his abdomen. “Just the baby?”

“You’re laughing at me,” Hux accuses.

“Maybe a little.” Kylo's brown eyes are bright.

“I’m fully aware you’re a deadly apex predator with thousands of kills under your belt and I am nothing but a soft mollusk.” Hux turns his back on the brat he somehow decided to shack up with, goes to the pile of papers and still-flat boxes cluttering the corner he assigned to himself, and picks one up, popping it into three-dimensional shape. “Fine, Mr Supreme Selkie, this lowly human will stop worrying about you. Put those books on the shelves, since you’re so strong and capable.”

He can’t see Kylo’s beautiful grin, but he hears the little chuffing laugh. That smart ass.

“All of them.”

“All of them?” Kylo echoes back, the humor gone from his voice. “There’s at least twenty!”

“There’s forty-seven, and they’re all important. Don’t worry, we’re almost done, you’ll have plenty of time to go kill another penguin.”

It’s Kylo’s turn to huff. 

Conversation falls by the wayside as they set to their tasks, the quiet sweeter than most Hux has known. It's surprisingly nice to have Kylo beside him in the small space, making the place ready for Baby. Hux has always rejected ideas of  _ home _ and  _ domestic _ as societal constructions as truthful and enduring as Santa Claus, yet this is undeniably cozy. He boxes up the old files and stacks them by the door, picturing a soft blanket in their empty place and his child laying on it, adorable and round and beaming at him.

“Armie.”

“Mm?”

"I think..."

Hux lays more files carefully into a new box, wondering if naming a selkie baby has special customs to consider. He rather likes the name Jules, and that's good for a girl or a boy if Kylo cares about any sort of gender. "Think what, love?"

“I think...”

A bang startles Hux into turning around just in time to see a shelf-full of books -- and the bloody shelf itself -- tumble down with muted thumps on the blue-and-green rug. Kylo stumbles back into the wall, and Hux shoots to his feet, alarmed. "Kylo?"

"M fine," Kylo mumbles. "Just." He pushes past Hux and rounds the corner to the bathroom, his deeper voice too thick. 

“Are you okay? Kylo?” Hux trails off, weight on one foot, not sure if he’s needed. He waits, but Kylo doesn’t call him. The pipes in the house vibrate quietly, and the sound of water running into the sink follows. Hux reluctantly relaxes back. If Kylo is able to use the taps, it's nothing too serious. Morning sickness, maybe, or something like that. Something Kylo would prefer not to share.

Sighing, Hux goes to the shelves, scooping the toppled one off the floor and examining it for cracks. It’s not broken. He lifts it and fits it back onto its brackets, trying not to listen to whatever’s happening in the bathroom. Kylo deserves any privacy Hux can give him in their small space. Hux certainly wouldn’t want anyone eavesdropping on him any time he had to be sick -- 

The unmistakable sound of many, many things clattering to the bathroom floor echoes through the house, and Hux abandons the books and rushes the few steps to the bathroom. He pushes the door open without knocking, eyes going round at the mess. “What’s going on, are you -- Jesus Mary and Joseph.”

Everything that used to be on the sink -- the toothpaste, the mouthwash, the electric razor, the plastic cup -- is on the floor, and Kylo is slumped over the basin, half sitting on the closed toilet lid. His dark head is down, hair messy, and what Hux can see of his face is blotchy. Hux’s heart tries to crawl up his throat and choke him. He moves into the bathroom, kicking at the mess. “Kylo, tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?”

“Gonna...”

“You’re over the sink, go ahead.” Boak in the sink is the least of anyone’s worries. Hux reaches out to push Kylo’s hair out of the way, hold it back for him, and his hand skates over Kylo’s forehead. Heat bites at his fingertips, dry and shocking in its intensity. He jerks his hand back out of some ancient instinct for self-preservation, then immediately puts it back. He presses his palm to Kylo’s forehead, his cheek, the back of his neck. No sign of the perspiration from earlier, only heat. Stupid words tumble from his lips. “You’re hot. Why are you so hot?”

Kylo shakes his head once, weakly. “It’s... In here. I can’t...”

In here? The bathroom? It’s warm, but it’s not uncomfortably so. It’s not, except they’ve been putting things away and moving around, and Kylo was sweating --

“Jesus.” The spike of worry brings with it more inflection, his accent peeking out,  _ Jaysus _ . “Fucking. You’re a fucking  _ seal _ \-- okay. You're overheated. Outside, you need to get out.” He takes hold of Kylo's arm, the one he isn't laying on, just above the wrist. It’s as hot and dry as Kylo’s face. “Stand up, love, please.” Kylo groans, and Hux’s guts twist unhappily. He waits a heartbeat, expecting Kylo to sick up, but nothing happens. “Please, come on, come  _ on _ .”

He pulls harder, and Kylo pushes up off the sink with his free hand, suddenly standing. Hux opens his mouth to say Good job when Kylo wobbles and slumps forward, toppling like a tree. Hux’s eyes widen, and he grabs Kylo around the middle, bracing with one leg behind himself, a fencer or a surfer or a person who’s ridden the fucking Tube too many goddamn times not to know how to keep his balance when he’s surprised. He grunts with the effort, his groin muscles straining. This is going to hurt later.

“Kylo!” His voice is half strangled. “Kylo, stand up, I can’t hold you --”

“Dizzy...”

“I know, I know. It’s okay. Just -- the door --”

They won’t get outside like this, there’s no way. Hux can’t carry Kylo, and he can’t drag him, either. The way the house is built, they won’t get around the corners without assistance. There’s a skylight in the bathroom, but no actual window, because windows here don’t open unless a person is armed with a jackhammer and suicidal tendencies.

“I’ll get -- I have ice --”

Of course they have ice, they have shittons of ice and snow and no way to get it in here except to leave Kylo, leave him cooking on the sink. 

The sink.

Hux glances at the running tap. He can reach, he can sit Kylo back down, and then -- then what? Splash Kylo’s face? Bathe his brow like they’re in some early Victorian novel? Not enough, Kylo is suffering and a tiny stream of cold water won’t be  _ enough _ . He needs a hose. He needs --

The bathtub. The big clawfoot bathtub that some rich toff from the 1900s hauled up here, the one the owners of the house kept even when they renovated and made the place actually livable for some lucky researcher, because a giant bathtub was so ridiculous to have they couldn’t bring themselves to toss it. The showpiece of the entire silly house. 

“Into the bathtub, love. It’s just a couple steps.” Hux straightens, hugely grateful when Kylo keeps himself upright under his own power. His eyes are shut, Hux notices. Kylo isn’t looking. He’s trusting Hux to help him.

Hux’s resolve firms into steel.

“Here, baby,” he says, scooting a step toward the giant white tub. “This way.” Together, they stagger the few steps needed. Hux pauses at the edge, then lifts a leg and puts a foot in the tub. He uses one hand to hold Kylo up, and the other to turn on the cold tap. The icy water he expected gushes in, soaking his sock, numbing his toes. “Sit. The edge.”

Kylo does, though he almost falls into the tub. Hux doesn’t know what will happen if a magical creature whacks his head against a porcelain tub, but he doesn’t want to find out. He puts his arms around Kylo’s shoulders and helps him turn around. Kylo isn’t wearing socks -- his feet don’t get cold like Hux’s do -- but the moment his bare foot touches the water, he lets out a sigh the likes of which Hux hasn’t heard outside of sex. Kylo goes limp and slides into the tub, slumps into it like a sack of flour. Hux yelps, barely managing to keep Kylo from doing the exact thing Hux was afraid of. He leans Kylo back and scrambles out, soaked sock splashing water all over the floor.

“Okay?” he asks, opening the tap as far as it will go.

There’s another sigh, or a moan, he isn’t sure, but before he can ask again, Kylo’s legs do that  _ thing _ , that thing Hux can’t ever seem to see no matter how many times he watches. They shimmer and swirl at the same time, and suddenly Kylo’s jeans are gone. His thick spotted tail unfurls and flops into the rising water, too long for the tub and sticking out, draping over one end, the additional length pushing Kylo up a bit, making him sit higher in the tub. Kylo whines and rolls over so half of his chest and belly are in the water, his back wet and exposed, his cheek against the cold edge of the tub.

It’s still not enough. He needs something colder, something to make it more like the ocean. Something like ice floes. Ice. He needs ice. And salt. The ocean has salt, and so does Hux. Salt in the kitchen, in a blue cardboard box with a little girl on the front, wearing rain gear. If aquarium fish can stand a bit of table salt, maybe a whole box will help Kylo.

“I’ll be right back.”

He runs to the front of the house, slipping on his dry sock, skidding on his wet one. He tears through the cupboards in search of the box, knocking down cans before he locates it. He grabs that and the ice bucket from the freezer and darts back to the bathroom where he unceremoniously upends both the into the water. 

“Kylo?”

There’s no immediate reaction. Swallowing panic, telling himself to calm down, Hux tosses the empty box and bucket to the side and climbs into the tub, legs on either side of Kylo’s sinuous body. The water is up to his knees, more thundering into the tub with every passing second, and it drenches his jeans as it sloshes around him, mixing with the salt and washing over Kylo. Hux cups his hands and scoops more frigid water over Kylo's prone form, running his wet hands over Kylo's shoulder, over his thick hair. This has to be enough, it  _ has _ to.

“Kylo, answer me.  _ Answer  _ me.”

The baby. Did he hurt the baby?

“Say something--”

"If I say something," Kylo says, voice rough, eyes still closed, "you might stop."

The tension in Hux snaps like a too-taut guitar string. He falls forward, catching himself with one hand against the bathroom wall and uttering a sound he can’t put words to. It takes more effort than it should to shut the tap. Silence fills the space where the rushing water once was, only occasional drips taking its place, and Hux stares down at Kylo's handsome face as the splotchy red flush slowly fades from Kylo's cheeks. Kylo turns his head just enough to meet Hux’s gaze, peeking at him almost shyly. They look at each other for a long moment. Hux's eyes burn. The water is cold around his legs, jeans clammy.

“... are you okay?” he says finally, when his throat is done constricting and Kylo still watches him with those beautiful brown eyes.

Kylo turns onto his back, a graceful half roll that barely moves the water. He holds both arms up.

Hux falls into them with a splash. The water is a freezing shock, but Kylo is warm. Not scary-warm, not anymore, just normal-for-Kylo warm. But even Kylo’s warmth can’t keep the frozen wet from Hux’s chest and sides, and his balls shrivel up inside his drenched, clinging jeans.

Kylo hugs him without noticing, and Hux hugs back, far too tightly. Kylo’s rounder stomach presses against his, warm through Hux’s soggy clothing. Their baby is in there. Their  _ baby _ .

“Tell me next time,” he gripes, muffled against Kylo’s firm shoulder, salt from the splash on his lips. “You scared the shit out of me, don’t ever do that again, I forbid it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kylo says meekly.

A terrible idea strikes Hux, and he stares at the porcelain of the tub, at the black hair curling along Kylo's throat, so much darker than the old white glaze. “Do you... Is it bad for you indoors? Does it... hurt?”

Kylo pauses, and Hux’s chest becomes a sinkhole. It is bad. It does hurt. It’s horribly uncomfortable, and Kylo has been putting up with it these past months just to be polite. Hux is forcing Kylo to suffer, even though he knows what temperature Arctic creatures need to survive, he’s dragged Kylo onto the base, into his house, and made him spend time beyond what Hux would never force a penguin or a regular seal to endure.

Hux is, for lack of a better word, an arsehole.

“It’s like summer,” Kylo muses, squeezing Hux again. “When the heater is on, it's like a really warm summer, all the time. You have summer where you get too hot, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Hux says weakly. Everywhere will be too hot for Kylo. For their baby. His eyes burn again, sharp and blurring. His baby.

“It’s like that. An interesting change for a while, and the sun is nice, but then too much. Usually I last a lot longer. Maybe the baby is messing with me.” He says it with a smile in his voice, one Hux still doesn't see.

The water is so cold it stings, raising goosebumps on Hux's arms. If Hux tries to keep their baby indoors with him, what immeasurable harm will he inflict? How will they live if they can't even be in the same fucking --

"Armie."

It's so cold. Even hugging Kylo as close as he can, it's cold.

"Armie, it's okay."

"It's not," he says, shutting his eyes tight. He has to do the right thing. He can't be selfish. "You shouldn't be here."

Kylo blows out air in an excellent imitation of a whale. "Don’t be like that. I'm right where I want to be. It was an accident, that’s all. I’ll be more careful.”

He doesn’t want to say it, but he must. He forces his voice to remain steady. “What about that baby? What if it’s -- I don’t know, impaired or --?”

The laugh surprises Hux. “The baby? I’d have a hard time hurting it with something like that. It’s tough. I’m tough.” He snugs Hux again, nuzzling his head, rubbing a cheek along Hux’s hair. “Besides, you’re here to make sure we’re okay when we’re in your dangerous hut.”

Hux makes a face and sits up, straddling Kylo’s hips, the swell of them larger and rounder where they meld into his tail. Icy water fills the new gap between them, swirls around the protruding slope of Kylo’s belly, and Hux shivers. “It’s not dangerous, you’re just an idiot.”

“Maybe a little,” Kylo says, but his smile is visible now, and not quite soft. “Good thing I have you.”

Heat stains Hux’s face pink. “I suppose.”

Kylo’s hands slide up Hux’s thighs, squeezing. “You’re too cold. Don’t do what I did. Pay attention to your body and go change. Get dry and covered in cloth, the way humans like.”

“Right.” Hux pretends he isn’t shivering for the sake of voicing his biggest concern. “But if I’m dry and cloth-covered out there, I can’t be in here with you. It’ll always be like that.”

The water rocks gently as Kylo shifts, undulating beneath Hux, his dark eyes heavy-lidded with unmistakable meaning, his exposed abdomen glistening wetly. “Maybe most of you can’t,” he purrs, “but we’ll figure it out. We solved the problem long enough to make a baby, didn’t we? I think just your hand will be okay this time.”

Hux stares. “You almost faint, and now you want to -- you’re incredible.”

Kylo's smile widens, the corners of it rich with promise. “Yeah. But don’t worry, Armie. I plan on returning the favor.”


End file.
